


It's alright

by Tiofrean



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, descriptions of violence, dub-con, injuries, mentions of BDSM, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:58:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During their layover, Douglas and Martin are sharing one room. When Martin has nightmares, Douglas wants to help him. He ends up discovering more than he expected....</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's alright

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the fic just needed to be written. Seriously, it wouldn't go away. 
> 
> There are mentions and descriptions of past very rough and dub-con sex on Martin's side, so if you're trigger-happy, just go back to your previous page. 
> 
> Warnings apply. Seriously. 
> 
> First fanfic here, first fanfic on Cabin Pressure.  
> Not last, though :)
> 
> I'm not a native English speaker, it's my second language. Also I study American English so it's entirely non-British version. As most of my fanfics will be. 
> 
> Tell me what you think and enjoy! :)

Douglas woke up in the middle of the night. They had a two-day long layover in Moscow – another ridiculously rich posh man wanted to go on a trip. Of course Carolyn couldn't book them separate rooms in an even moderately nice hotel, so they ended up in a dirty, old hutch, fighting with cockroaches and cold seeping from windows that were old enough to fall off from their hinges. 

The First Officer pulled the covers higher over himself, shielding his neck from the cold breeze and squeezed his eyes tightly. The night has only started and he had already had problems with sleep. Good that tomorrow was their day off. He started to plan the next day in hope to bring sweet unconsciousness quicker. He was almost drifting away when he heard it. 

A short gasp.

A moan.

Slight movement.

Douglas' eyes snapped open and he turned around to face the other bed. He was sharing his room with Martin and he was glad for it. They did it every time when Carolyn booked them a double and it had always been a peaceful and relaxing experience. The Captain was a deep and quiet sleeper. He didn't snore, he didn't talk, he just fell onto the bed and into slumber as quickly and efficiently as a kid would.

A moan.

Not today, though. Douglas blindly searched for a switch and soon a warm glow from a cheap, small lamp filled the room. He looked at the other bed and froze. Martin was facing him, his body tangled in the sheets, most of them bundled up around his chest. He had a hard grip on the pillow beneath his head with one hand and his second one was waving uncontrollably in the air. His lips were moving slightly but no sound was coming from between them, and when the First Officer's gaze fell onto his cheeks, Douglas gasped. The Captain's aristocratic cheekbones, probably the only thing Martin had been lucky to get before his bad luck kicked into life, were shining with wetness. 

Douglas huffed and climbed out of bed, padded gently to the other man and sat at the edge of the mattress.  
“Martin.”  
“No...” came the quiet answer and the younger man's legs twitched. Douglas tried again, harder this time, but he still got no response. So he placed a gentle hand on Martin's shoulder and squeezed gently. Not enough to startle him, but enough to wake the suffering man up. Martin jolted and gave a shout, trying to free from the grip.  
“Martin... wake up. Come on, wake up. You're dreaming...” the older man cooed gently, running his palm over the trembling arm. “Come on, wake up. It's just a dream.... Martin, wake up” he squeezed his arm again, this time a little bit higher. Martin's eyes flew open and he stared wildly at the man in front of him. Douglas smiled gently. “Hey... you've been dreaming. It's alright, it was just a dream...”  
“Douglas?” His voice raspy, eyes bloodshot and lips trembling slightly. Oh how Douglas wanted to kiss those lips... Wait, what? Where did that come from? He shook his head to clear it.  
“Yup, that's my name, brilliantly observed, sir.”  
“What's going on?” Martin asked, still fixing his First Officer with startled stare as he tried to process why had he been woken up in the middle of the night.  
“You had a nightmare, Martin. I made a few attempts to wake you up, but you would have none of it...” the older man started to explain, but Martin disturbed him.  
“Oh God... Oh God...” he brought his hand to his mouth. “Did I talk in the sleep?”  
“Not much. I was rather afraid you would strangle yourself to death, being tied up in the sheets like that...” if Douglas had seen the sheer relief that flooded Martin's whole existence in this particular moment, he decided to ignore it. He made a vow to himself that he would not tease his Captain in such situations. He was his friend and Douglas cared for the young man deeply. Even more than he was supposed to, given their business relationship. Of course, Douglas caught himself fantasizing about his co-pilot more than once, but, as the old saying goes, the heart has no master, and so he could do nothing to suppress those feelings. Not that he wanted to. 

“Douglas?” Martin's voice, much calmer now, brought him back to reality. “What's wrong?”  
“Wrong?” The older man's brows furrowed.  
“You've got that sort of look... you s-seemed to zoom out for a moment...”  
“Ah. I was just thinking about 'What is eating Captain Crieff'. Maybe you could help me with this?”  
“I... I-I don't think... Douglas. This is not a good moment for such things. I had a n-nightmare, you've woken me. Thank you... But that's all. So, um... thanks” he said, trying to sound bravely but failing and stammering.  
“Martin. No need to thank me. Now, go back to sleep, we'll talk in the morning” he glanced at the still-tangled sheets. “But first, let's get sir out of these, so that sir won't find himself chocked to death in the morning” and with that he started to pull the covers from Martin's lithe body. He had only bared one shoulder, when Martin jerked violently, gripping the covers and pulling them back over his body. Douglas frowned.  
“Martin, don't be ridiculous, you really will strangle yourself with them” he pulled again, though more forcefully and stretched them all the way down the trembling frame of his Captain's body. He looked up and froze in terror. Near Martin's, now loose, hands resting on the top of the white linen, there were dark, bloody stains smeared over the whiteness of the sheet. The younger man turned his head to the side, facing away from Douglas.  
“Martin...”  
“Don't.” It was whispered quietly, just a single puff of air. But the taller man heard it nevertheless.  
“Martin, what's this?” He asked, nodding in the general direction of the Captain's silhouette. Martin swallowed thickly and remained silent. “Martin...”  
“Please, can we just let it go?” And right then, Douglas noticed just how much the younger pilot's voice was trembling.  
“What happened?” He tried in a soft and gentle tone. Martin winced slightly, his eyes still focused on some distant point, his gaze hanging mid-air. Douglas moved slowly so that he sat higher on the bed, and reached one hand towards Martin's. When the younger pilot didn't move away, he risked touching his arm, running his fingers lightly over the pale skin. 

Martin swallowed rapidly, blinking away the tears that started to gather under his eyelids. Douglas' fingers were warm and gentle, running up and down his arm in a soothing move. He risked a sideways glance toward his First Officer and almost gasped at the softness he found in the older man's eyes. It was so rare... and now, this softness was focused only on his stupid self. Martin swallowed, feeling his throat getting awfully tight. He was so stupid, he didn't deserve any of Douglas' worry... The Captain's thoughts drifted to the evening two days earlier.

He went to a bar. It was dirty and damp, beer was awful and music unbearable. And yet Martin managed to find what he was looking for. It was a gay pub... well, rather a hutch. But it was filled to the brim with homosexual males, dancing and twitching to the rhythm of some dull songs. 

He spotted him immediately. Tall, dark but slightly graying hair, broad chest and an air of authority floating around him. The young Captain finished his fourth beer, what made him quite drunk, and made his way to the man. The thing about Martin was that when he was sober he was awfully shy, almost to the point of being sick. When he got drunk, though, he could pick up anyone he wanted. Or at least try to do it, because it was quite hard to concentrate on talking when your legs were falling from under you. Yet, on that evening, he was successful. 

They ended in that man's – what was his name? Mike? Roger? - apartment, and Martin found himself face-first on an unfamiliar bed, tied up and gagged. They agreed on a safeword, but now it seemed clear that there was no use. When the man – Oscar, perhaps? - retrieved a whip out of nowhere, Martin started to shiver. When first blow landed on his exposed back, he moaned and trashed. When it continued, gradually increasing in force, he settled on whimpering and groaning from the sheer pain of heavy strikes. He stopped fighting his bonds a long time before, he agreed to do this after all, he wanted to do this at some point earlier on that evening. A pair of wet fingers making their way between his legs snapped him out of his thoughts, and through the haze of pain he could feel the man preparing him. His back was on fire, he knew he was probably bleeding, because there was an awful lot of wetness cooling down on his skin. When the man positioned himself and entered his barely prepared body, Martin jolted only once, his muscles screaming in protest. He moved his head slightly to the side, just enough to look at the man behind him with his peripheral vision. His broad frame, his hair that seemed much brighter in the soft, dimmed light... He imagined another set of hands touching him, he imagined another pair of lips kissing along his abused skin... He suddenly felt a hand gripping him firmly and jerking his only half-hard member in time with forceful thrusts. He moaned, wondering when did he manage to get hard, when his mind supplied him with the image of a smiling face. The face that he was desperately trying to imagine through the whole evening. He moaned, biting hard into the gag and came, his body trembling with sensations. As soon as he was untied, he curled up into a tight ball and drifted into unconsciousness. The last thing remembered, before he fell into a bliss of dreamless sleep, was a tender face of his First Officer.

“Martin.” 

He jolted and stared straight into those brown, tender eyes. The young man was suddenly very aware of the state of his body, of his trembling limbs, of his aching back, of two strong hands gripping his shoulders...  
“Douglas...”  
“Where have you been?” Douglas asked and he frowned. “You zoomed out for a bit and wherever you went, it wasn't a pleasant place to be...” Martin could only nod at this.  
“Sorry...” his voice was coarse and rough.  
“Stop it. Here” he handed him a tissue and Martin's frown deepened. “You were crying, Martin...”

Oh. Oh...

“Right. Thanks...” the young man took the tissue and nodded.  
“What the hell happened?” Douglas asked in strong words, but his voice was gentle. Martin turned his face to the side, his eyes focusing on the wall.  
“Nothing... I mean, don't worry about it.”  
“Martin...”  
“Well, I had a rough n-night, that's all. Nothing serious happened, okay? C-can we just leave it? Please?” He asked in a miserable voice.  
“Not entirely. Where are you hurt?” The older man asked, looking expectantly at Martin.  
“Douglas, it's nothing...”  
“It's not 'nothing' Martin, you are bleeding. If you don't want to speak about it, then at least let me find a doctor or some paramedic...”  
“No!” Martin almost shouted, his eyes wide and staring at his friend in horror. “No doctors. It's out of question...” Douglas nodded. Of course, they would forbid him from flying for at least a week and that would crush both, Martin and MJN air.  
“Then at least let me have a look... I know I haven't finished my medical degree, but I have picked up some things.”  
“I don't think it's...” The younger man started but Douglas interrupted him in a gentle and soft tone that he usually reserved for his daughter.  
“Martin... listen to me very carefully, because it's a rare occasion that I'm showing my hand like this. You are my friend and I care for you deeply. I cannot let you go on like nothing has happened, not when I have seen this” he gestured toward the soiled sheet. “I know it's hard, but believe me, I have no intentions of mocking you or bringing it up ever again. I just want to help you, because you obviously need it. So?” He asked and waited, his eyes searching Martin's face. He just swallowed, blinked rapidly and nodded, hands gripping the sheets tightly again. 

The First Officer stood up slowly and made his way to his flight-bag. He rummaged through it and fished out his small first aid kit. He came back to bed, sat next to Martin, facing him and looked expectantly. Martin pealed himself from the sheets and sat more upright. When he started to unbutton his pajama top and tugged it down, he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned slightly, looking at Douglas with a sideways glance. He knew how badly his back looked and he didn't need a remainder from his First Officer. When he caught the older man's eyes, however, there was no mocking, no teasing, not even a bit of the tiniest attempts on jokes. Douglas face wasn't disgusted or pitiful. The only thing that was so visible that it seemed to radiate from the other man was tenderness. It reminded Martin of the way that sometimes his mother would look at her oldest child, Simon, when she thought no one was looking. His mother has always put Simon before the others, he has always been the best and the most loved. At least that was how Martin felt. 

“Okay?” The older man asked and martin jolted.  
“Yes. Yes, fine. I'm fine. Fine” Douglas only raised an eyebrow at this but remained silent. He pealed the ruined fabric from the rest of Martin's back, cringing at the way his injuries disappeared under the waistband of his bottoms. Oh God... Martin must have torn open his wounds when he started trashing during the nightmare...  
“It will sting a little, but I'll try to make it as painless as I can, alright?” He asked in a warm tone, fishing out the necessary items. He cleaned Martin's back as quickly and professionally as he could, paying attention to every small wound. The younger pilot's back was covered in smaller and bigger bruises that were yet to form properly, minor cuts probably from too forceful use of a whip and a few deeper wounds, definitely made with some kind of a sharp object. The last ones were bleeding and they needed dressing, which Douglas provided with as much care as he could. His young Captain was quiet through most part, but at the end he couldn't stop soft whimpers from escaping. When they were done, Douglas handed him his spare shirt to sleep in, since Martin's top was dark with his own blood. The First Officer laid the young pilot in his own bed and sat quietly on the edge of the mattress to keep an eye on him. Just before Martin drifted into sleep he murmured a quiet 'thank you' and smiled a little. Just a quirk of the corners of his mouth, but for his friend it was enough. He needed this little smile like he needed to breath – he realized suddenly. It was as if Martin's little smile could lighten his whole world and keep his nightmares at bay. When the young man finally drifted off, he walked to the other bed, took the bloodied covers off and laid himself on top of the bare mattress, facing the other man and sunk in his thoughts. 

He didn't know what had woken him up at first. His eyes snapped open and he saw Martin, moaning and trashing on his bed, gripping the bed covers tightly. Douglas moved slightly and seated himself upright, unable to decide whether to stay where he was or to go to his young Captain. He felt his skin tingling in the chilly air of the room and only then he discovered that he had been cold, a spare blanket he had thrown over his body before he fell asleep not enough protection. Martin moaned again and that was all the other man needed to finally move. 

He was thinking about their relationship for a long time before he finally succumbed to sleep. He liked Martin, a lot more than he was supposed to as a co-pilot. A lot more than a friend should. But the First Officer, being realist, knew that the chance for Martin to actually reciprocate these feelings was highly unlikely. He was an old man after all, with three failed marriages and career that ended for him when his smuggling business started. He could offer nothing to the young man in front of him and he was painfully aware of this fact. He hoped however. He hoped in spite of everything. 

Douglas moved silently to his friend's bed and lowered himself next to Martin, facing him and propping himself on one elbow. Martin, obviously unconsciously, shifted closer, seeking warm. He snuggled into his First Officer's embrace and Douglas was left with nothing else to do, but to hug him tightly with the arm he was not using to keep himself partly upright. He was, as always, very considerate about his friend and with great care he avoided his wounds while putting an arm around the lanky body.  
“What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, feeling warm huff of breath near his elbow. Then another on his upper arm. And another. 

Then a lock of hair brushed his skin.

And one pale thigh shifted closer, rubbing against his softly. 

“Martin?” But the young pilot was still asleep, even when his body was responding to the other human being in the close space. Douglas had to fight not to roll his eyes when Martin's lips came in contact with his arm. Soft and warm, barely touching at first, then pressing with a change of angle, adding pressure. Douglas moved his arm from around Martin to his face and brushed away a few auburn curls that fell on it. Martin looked like an angel craved in marble. Except hair, of course. But his high cheekbones and big eyes with long eyelashes gave him some sort of ethereal look. He was simply beautiful, if slightly too thin, but Douglas was going to change that. He could start taking him out for dinners or coffees, he could sometimes cook something himself and bring it to a flight in excuse of mastering his skills. He could even talk with Carolyn to split up his salary and give it to Martin, god knows that he deserved it. And now, when Douglas planned on moving into an apartment and selling the house, he will have no problems with maintenance. 

He was abruptly brought back to reality when he felt the warm body under his hands stir and shift backwards, Martin's eyes snapping open in terror.  
“Martin, it's okay, it's me” he started but the younger man successively stopped him with a flood of apologies.  
“I'm sorry... S-s-sorry, Douglas... I... I didn't... Oh, God, I'm sorry, I didn't want to... sorry, sorry...”  
“Martin, it's okay. It's fine” the older man made an attempt on getting into the previous position, with his hand in Martin's hair, but a pale arm was the nearest thing he could reach now. He grasped it gently and spoke with his most soothing tone.  
“Martin, it's alright, don't panic. I won't hurt you, you are safe here.”  
“But... B-but what are you doing here?” The young man asked, wide-eyed. Adorable, Douglas thought.  
“Well, Sir seemed to have a nightmare and looked terribly cold, what with me being warm-starved as well, made an excellent coincidence” he tried to lighten up the mood a little, but seeing as it was getting them nowhere, he decided to be upfront with Martin. “Okay, listen. You looked distressed and, as I've told you before, I care about you. To be fair, I care about you a hell of a lot and I want to help you in any way I can. Plus I really was cold. So I thought why not lie down, double covers would protect us from freezing and I can watch you closely, so a win-win situation.”  
“But...”  
“No buts, Martin. I really haven't got any wicked plans, I just wanted to make sure that you're alright and have some decent sleep. I wasn't going to act on my feelings toward you, because I don't want to scare you.”  
“You have feelings for me?” Asked a curious Captain and Douglas couldn't remember when he wanted to kiss him more.  
“You really want me to say it? Fine. I love you, Martin” he paused, letting the information sink in. “Lima-Oscar-Victor-Echo. I love you” he smiled a little, seeing as the tension slowly left his companion, leaving only the exhaustion of past few days behind.  
“Really?”  
“Yes. I know how it sounds, coming from a man with three ex-wives, but I really really do love you, Captain Crieff” he smiled wider and Martin thought that it was true.  
“Douglas, I..”  
“Shh... you don't have to. Don't say anything until you're sure. It's not a competition” at this Martin nodded and returned to his previous position, with his face near Douglas' arm, snuggling even closer than before.  
“Sleep now, Captain. Don't worry, I won't molest you.”  
“Shame...” came the quiet whisper from under the red curls. “I think, I would like that...”

Douglas was so surprised that he did the first thing he shouldn't have done. He should have wave it off and go to sleep. He should hug Martin tighter and go to sleep. Maybe plant a gentle kiss on that beautiful hair and go to sleep. Either way, sleeping was the best option. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked instead and held his breath when he saw a tiny nod. He fell silent, weighing his options. He could say no and possibly worsen the dark mood his Captain was in, he could not say anything and make him anxious about his own needs. So he asked “are you sure? Your last... encounter” Douglas struggled not to use the word 'ordeal', even if it would have been perfect to describe whatever Martin's been through. “It wasn't a pleasant experience... Are you sure that you want this? We don't have to do anything. Especially if you don't want to” he stated, his voice still gentle, but a slight tremble revealed just how much emotions were flying through him in that moment.  
“I want you... I don't know what you see in me, I've failed my CPL six times, I don't get paid, I'm stupid... I don't even look good...”  
“You silly boy” Douglas lifted his chin, cutting through that self-degrading tirade. “You are very smart...” Douglas leaned down and kissed his full lips gently, adding just that bit of pressure to make the kiss pleasurable. He leaned back again and continued, voice as delicate as his hand that now started to wander. “You are unbelievably smart and you are a very good pilot...” His hand moved on his front, caressing hard planes of that slim, almost skinny body through his own shirt. He started to tug it upwards.  
“But you are a better pil...”  
“And yet I put my life into your hands every time you land our old GERTIE” warm fingers slipped underneath soft cotton and caressed every bit of skin they found there. Martin gasped and shifted even closer.  
“You have every skill that a very good pilot needs, some of them being patience and stubbornness... Yes, I know that I had said that you were impatient on many occasions, but I was just teasing. When you have a goal” fingers skipped to his navel, drawing lazy circles there, “...when you set yourself a goal you want to reach, you are unstoppable.”  
“Douglas...” a small whisper. The man in question smiled and slipped his fingers under the waistband of the Captain's bottoms, running them lightly over the pale flesh on his hip. Martin gasped, his hand shot to Douglas' pajama top, curling there in attempt to ground himself.  
“We can stop whenever you want. No questions, no buts. You say stop and I will, alright?” The first officer asked and kissed the storm of red curls. Martin nodded and felt those warm, slightly rough fingers wander to his front, tugging his bottoms down a little. Douglas' smile widened even further when he found the Captain's treasure. Martin was hard and hot in his palm, and when he moved his hand just so, tugging gently, the young man gave him the most beautiful little moan that he had ever heard.  
“Please...”  
A soft whimper. Douglas gripped tighter, Martin's hips bucked forward on their own account. When he set a regular rhythm, not too quick to end it too soon, and not too slow, he shifted his position a little, just so he could watch Martin's face. His young Captain has his eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between teeth that were clamped so tightly Douglas feared, he could chew through it. To stop Martin from hurting himself, and also because he needed to hear all those delicious noises that his captain was apparently able to produce, he dived in and kissed him. Martin responded immediately, parting lips with a sigh, letting him in. Douglas started to kiss him passionately, speeding up his hand at the same time what resulted in Martin breaking the kiss with a loud whimper. He was panting now, his hips canting in time with Douglas' ministrations, his hands fisting in sheets and his First Officer's clothes. The older man gave a moan of himself, feeling his body responding to the delicious sight laid before his eyes. He lowered his lips to the pale neck and started to kiss and nib delicately, feeling Martin begin to tense.  
“Douglas...”  
“Shh... I've got you... let go, Martin...” The younger man only moaned at that, curling on on himself. He buried his nose between Douglas' shoulder and neck, and whimpered his name as he finally let go. 

When he tumbled over the edge, whimpering Douglas' name, Martin felt as if the whole world crumbled with him. Weeks of sleep-starvation and the recent pain he experienced had finally caught him and he sobbed into the warm skin of his lover. He blacked out for a few moments, the force of unexpected pleasure knocking him out. When he came around he felt a pair of gentle and warm hands, cleaning him carefully, then adjusting the covers around him. He forced himself to open his eyes, what proved to be a very difficult task, and was greeted with a pair chocolates. 

Douglas smiled his most genuine smile and lowered himself next to Martin, getting under the sheets and hugging his small body to his own, bigger and much warmer.  
“Thank you...” he whispered, tiredness making even talking difficult.  
“There's no need Captain, it was quite pleasurable for me as well...” at this Martin's eyes widened and he looked curiously at the man lying next to him.  
“Did you...?”  
“Oh yes. Watching you was quite enjoyable and while it usually takes more than that to undo me, I must admit that I came in my pants like a schoolboy” he grinned and Martin shuffled closer, burying his nose in the crook of his neck again.  
“A dyn a memby n low wy ou...” he mumbled incoherently. Douglas frowned.  
“What?” Martin lifted his head just a little bit to make his words flow directly into Douglas' ear.  
“I think I may be in love with you...” he huffed and flopped back down with a sigh. Before he fell asleep he heard Douglas whispering a quiet “I love you, too” before a strong arm wrapped itself protectively around his middle and moving him even closer toward the warm body next to his.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are gold :)


End file.
